A Confederacy of Wizards
by herbertpocket
Summary: In the Second Age of Middle Earth, the two Blue Wizards were sent to aid the people of the East, and disappeared from all reckoning. In the year 2061 of the Third Age, nearly nine hundred years before Bilbo Baggins set out from the Shire, Saruman the White held a meeting. Much to his surprise, his long-absent colleagues decided to put in an appearance as well...
1. Unexpected Guests

For the first time in nearly a thousand years, all five Istari had gathered in the same place. But as far as Saruman was concerned, five was one Istar too many.

"My dear colleague," he ground out, peering down his nose at Alatar, "Was it quite necessary to ride an _oliphaunt_ into Isengard?"

Alatar fidgeted under his stare. "I thought walking would be too slow," he mumbled. "And I have never quite mastered horseback riding."

"It's true," Pallando supplied, leaning against the oliphaunt's leg. "He spends more time falling on his arse than in the saddle." This earned him a glare from Alatar, and he smirked.

Saruman just shook his head, taking a good look at his long-absent confederates. Their rather foreign appearance was no surprise - both the Blue Wizards had assumed human forms that resembled the people of the East. But what in Aule's name were they _wearing?_

"Alatar," he said slowly, "what has become of your robes?"

"Robes?" Alatar echoed, glancing down at himself. He was wearing a pair of exceedingly baggy white trousers, gathered at the ankles, with a sort of matching tunic. "Ah, yes. I found they were rather...conspicuous in the Eastern lands, so I took to wearing the local dress. Far more suitable for the heat too. As for the robes, I couldn't bring myself to get rid of them, so I had them made into a belt." He indicated a blue sash about his waist. "And an assortment of pocket-handkerchiefs, though I can't say where most of those have got to - "

"Very nice," Saruman interrupted the stream of verbiage. He glanced at Pallando, who was wearing a silk jacket in an eye-wateringly bright shade of blue, covered with dizzying patterns.

"I see that you too have adopted the local attire," Mithrandir said with interest. "Very commendable, I must say."

"Local attire? Hardly." Pallando snorted. "This getup is made-to-order. I look like a maniac out there too."

Saruman frowned. "But then why - "

Pallando shrugged, grinning. "Dunno. Just like how it looks, I guess."

Saruman nodded politely, while privately reflecting that the Eastern sun must have driven both of the Blue Wizards quite mad.

"I, ah, I'm dreadfully sorry about your little picket fence," Alatar put in suddenly. "It's just, poor old Bala can be a bit clumsy." The oliphaunt snorted at that, and he gave it a reassuring pat on the trunk.

"Picket fence!" Saruman stared at him in disbelief. "Do you mean my _palisade?_ Which that beast of yours reduced to kindling?"

"Yes, well, I shall certainly repair it once we've finished our meeting." Alatar smiled apologetically. "Now, by way of apology for my tardiness and destruction of property, I would like to invite you all to hold the meeting in my quarters." He gestured upwards, and Saruman craned his neck to look where he was pointing.

Perched atop the spine of the oliphaunt was a garish, rainbow-hued pavilion that seemed to be a patchwork of assorted pieces of cloth. Protruding from the top were three metal chimneys that emitted puffs of green, blue and yellow smoke and the occasional piercing whistle.

 _Absolutely not,_ Saruman thought. But before he could refuse, Mithrandir decided to stick his oar in.

"That would be delightful," he said, smiling pleasantly. "I have never been on an oliphaunt before." Alatar beamed - he had always been childishly easy to please - and Saruman bit back a groan.

PPPPP

The Blue Wizard's quarters, Saruman reflected, were just as preposterous as the man himself.

The pavilion was dominated by a large potted tree, with spreading branches that stretched to the walls and brushed against the fabric roof. There was a round opening in the ceiling, and sunlight filtered in through large green leaves. Bright red flowers dotted the branches, and the air was filled with gently drifting petals.

Teetering bamboo shelves lined the walls, supporting all manner of peculiar instruments. There were coiled glass tubes filled with bubbling liquids, convoluted metal shapes with parts that seemed to move of their own accord, and a variety of potted plants that were unlike anything Saruman he had ever seen before. There were larger instruments set up on the floor – Saruman spotted a telescope, but that was the only thing that was remotely identifiable – and what little of the floor was visible was covered by thick, ornately patterned carpets.

"Oh, my..." Radagast gazed upwards, his face dappled with greenish light. "How lovely."

"A remarkable setup," said Mithrandir, bending down to examine a potted plant with spiky orange blossoms. One of the flowers roared and snapped at his beard, which he yanked away just in time.

"Ah, that one's a bit cantankerous," said Alatar apologetically. "He's on a diet, you see."

Mithrandir straightened up, his eyes twinkling. "Remarkable," he repeated, smiling.

Saruman scowled. Mithrandir always indulged Alatar as if he were a precocious younger sibling, when in fact the Blue Wizard had been in Endor longer than anyone and made a right hash of things to boot. And as usual it would fall to _him_ to be responsible and call the others to order.

Drawing himself up to his full, very impressive height, Saruman cleared this throat loudly.

"If there is nothing else," he said a bit stiffly, "we really ought to get started."

"Ah! Yes, of course!" Alatar handed out cushions to the rest of them. "I don't keep chairs in my quarters," he explained. "We don't use them much, as a rule, in the East, and the oliphaunt finds the legs dreadfully poky. He has sensitive skin, you see. Which reminds me! Are any of you wearing hobnailed boots?" He glanced down at their footwear. "Just leather soles, I see. Excellent - no need to take those off. But dear me, I'm rambling – "

"Yes, you bloody well are," groaned Pallando, sinking to the floor and burying his head in his hands. "Can you just sit down and shut up?"

"I'm afraid Pallando is not at his best today." Alatar took a seat on the floor, his mouth twitching beneath his beard. "He overdid it a bit yesterday with the arrack – that's a sort of coconut brandy – and today he is feeling the consequences."

"Well, I wouldn't have had to get drunk if – "

"Pallando!" Alatar hissed, shooting him a look. Pallando held the other wizard's gaze and said nothing, an unreadable expression on his face. There was a rather long, tense pause.

"I was not even aware that Istari could get hangovers," Mithrandir said loudly, breaking the silence. " _I've_ certainly never had one."

Pallando snorted. "Then you've obviously never had arrack. Want to try a glass?"

"Well, I suppose just one couldn't hurt – "

"Absolutely not!" Saruman glowered at them both. "We have wasted quite enough time all ready, and I will not have you lot getting drunk before we have even begun!"

"Yes, we really ought to get started," Radagast said absently, smiling at the plant that had attacked Mithrandir. "Don't you think so?"

The plant barked.

"Quite right, my dear chap," Radagast murmured. Saruman sighed and buried his face in his hands.

With enemies like these, Sauron hardly needed allies.


	2. Tactical Information

"We must attend to the most pressing matter." Saruman surveyed the faces before him. "Namely, the Shadow in Mirkwood, formerly known as the Greenwood. I believe Radagast is in a position to inform the rest of us."

Saruman paused, but there was no response from the Brown Wizard. Glancing around, he saw that Radagast had wandered away from the group and was singing to a hairy-looking shrub.

"Radagast!" he snapped.

Radagast looked up, smiling absently. "Hmmm?"

"Kindly return to your seat and inform us as to the situation in Mirkwood!"

Radagast actually squeaked in alarm, his smile vanishing. "Oh, it's - it's dreadful," he stammered. "Those poor trees – I've never seen them like this before. I've been doing my best, but they don't seem to – "

"Radagast," Saruman interrupted sharply, "I do not wish to know about the trees."

"You...you don't?" Radagast stared at him as if he couldn't fathom the possibility. "Well, er...the animals are afraid too. They are fleeing the forest, specially the birds - "

"I do not wish to know about the animals either," said Saruman with growing impatience. "The Shadow, Radagast, tell us about the Shadow! What are is origins? How fast does it spread, and to where? Give us tactical information!"

Radagast blinked at him, wrinkling up his forehead in confusion. "Tactical information, you say? Oh. Oh dear." Radagast scratched at his beard and a shower of leaves and small twigs fell to the ground. "I'm afraid that's not quite my area."

Saruman dragged a hand over his face. The old fool's mind was addled as a century-old cheese! How was he to extract any useful information from that muddle? Then, much to his annoyance, the Blue Menace decided to chip in.

"Radagast, you said the Presence was spreading through the Greenwood." Alatar leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the Brown Wizard. "Does it move outward, like ripples in a pond, or does it send out tendrils like a creeping vine?"

Radagast blinked. "W-well...like creeping vines, I suppose - I can't begin to guess where it will go next. It has invaded five stands of beeches, poor things, but left the oaks alone - just sort of went round them, I don't know why - "

Saruman cursed inwardly and opened his mouth to scold Radagast for his rambling, but the Blue Menace was undeterred.

"Are the beeches, by any chance, frailer or weaker than the other trees?" At Radagast's nod, he continued. "What is it like, this Shadow? You mentioned that trees and the birds were harmed - what does it do to them?"

Radagast shuddered, a haunted look in his eyes. "The very air of the forest is sick," he murmured. "The trees - they were my friends, not long ago, but now they are wary of visitors and huddle together in suspicion. Once, the Greenwood was loud with the sound of birdsong, but the birds have fled and they sing no more. The small animals are abandoning the South of the wood as well, and fell creatures have come in their place." Radagast's face crumpled. "I always believed that I could befriend any animal, no matter how strange or ugly it may seem to others, but these beasts care nothing for my friendship. They seek only to - to - "

"To kill and give pain." Pallando's face was grim, his hangover apparently forgotten. Radagast stared at him miserably and nodded.

"Radagast," Alatar said, placing a hand on the Brown Wizard's shoulder. "I imagine that if I showed you a spreading vine or a creeper you could find me the root of it?"

Radagast gave him a slightly offended look. "Naturally."

"Well then." Alatar gave him a small smile, though his eyes were intent. "This - this...creeping menace spreading through your forest. Where is the root of it? What is its source?"

Radagast frowned, crinkling up his forehead in thought. "I believe it is somewhere at the southwestern extremity of Mirkwood."

Pallando leaned forward. "There is a structure there, is there not? Some sort of fortress?"

Radagast's eyes widened. "Y-yes. F-for a long time there was but a crumbled ruin, but now...now there is a stone castle."

Saruman stared at him, feeling his stomach drop. _It has been rebuilt,_ he then, _Why couldn't that tree-loving nitwit mention this when I asked him?_

Radagast was still speaking. "The people are frightened of it. They call it Dol...dol something." _Dol Guldur._ Saruman suppressed a shudder.

Radagast glanced at Pallando. "How…how did you know? About the fortress?"

But Pallando did not answer. He turned to look at Alatar, and the other Wizard's grim expression mirrored his own. Radagast's eyes darted nervously between them, while Mithrandir sat very still, his face serious.

There was no sound in the room except for the deep breathing of the oliphaunt and the chiming of various instruments on the shelves.

"Well?" Saruman said at last. "Is there something you wish to share with the rest of us?"

Alatar turned to look at him. All traces of merriment were gone from his face, and when he finally spoke, his voice was flat and hard.

"The Dark Lord has returned."


	3. Chapter 3

Saruman felt his own heart beating faster, but he fought down the wave of alarm and tried to be the voice of reason.

"Now wait just one moment," he said in his most mellow tones. "Evidently some ill-favoured Presence has established itself in Mirkwood. However, it does not necessarily follow that it is Sauron himself returned."

Pallando looked ready to disagree, but Alatar shot him a look and he subsided.

"I can say with certainty that it is he," Alatar said. "Pallando and I are familiar with his habits, and this is typical behaviour."

"Indeed," Saruman said smoothly, "you most certainly do seem to be _familiar_ with him."

Alatar looked back at him in confusion, but Pallando's dark eyes flashed dangerously. "What's that supposed to mean?" he growled.

"I do not mean to accuse." Saruman held up his hands placatingly. "However, for two people who have not been to the West since the Second Age, you appear to be extraordinarily well-informed with regard to the goings-on in Mirkwood - "

"We have no information other than that provided by Radagast," Alatar interrupted _. Rude fellow_."But we are in a position to predict Sauron's movements, based on our…experiences in the last war - "

"Ah, yes, the last war." Saruman eyed the two blue wizards narrowly. "I have done extensive research, and yet there is no mention of you in any account."

The two Blue Wizards glanced at each other. Saruman noticed with irritation that Pallando had, despite his instructions to the contrary, produced a bottle of that Valar-forsaken coconut liquor.

"These _accounts_ of yours," said Pallando, "where'd you get them? In the archives of Rhun? Or maybe the great Library of Ghaijar?"

"Ah…" Saruman wondered if Pallando was joking. Did the Easterlings actually have _libraries?_ "No," he admitted. "I must confess that I confined my search to the archives of Minas Tirith."

"Minas Tirith, the Capital of Gondor?"

"I am not aware of any other Minas Tirith," said Saruman, holding onto his temper with difficulty.

"Well, as you said yourself, neither of us has been to the West since the Second Age." Pallando chuckled darkly and took a swig directly from the bottle. "Might explain why we're not in the records."

"It might indeed," Saruman murmured. "It would not, however, explain the accounts that describe powerful sorcerers in the battles. Fighting among Sauron's forces."

There was long, heavy silence. Alatar stared at him, appalled, while Pallando just looked darkly amused. Radagast fidgeted uncomfortably, glancing between Saruman and the Blue Wizards.

"That is quite enough," Gandalf put in. "We did not come here to hurl futile accusations amongst ourselves. Our purpose is to discuss the emerging Shadow!"

Once again, Saruman wondered how anyone could possibly be so naïve. "Futile?" he demanded. "Would you permit traitors to hear our Council? What evidence do you have that these two have not betrayed us? We have heard nothing of them for over a thousand years!"

Mithrandir was silent for a moment, his blue eyes serious. "I would be interested to hear an account of their doings," he said at last. "But first I wish to know why they believe that the Presence in the Greenwood is Sauron returned. I believe that we ought to investigate – "

"No!" Alatar said sharply. Saruman narrowed his eyes at him, and even Mithrandir frowned a little.

"Oh, for Mandos' sake!" Pallando looked thoroughly exasperated. "If you could quit jumping to conclusions for one minute and let us explain – "

"Saruman is obviously in a weakened state," Alatar broke in. "He has holed himself up in the forest, instead of attacking the kingdoms of Middle-Earth directly. He has not even the strength to dominate the stronger _trees,_ and he cannot risk a confrontation with one of the Istari."

Mithrandir frowned. "So if we were to venture into his fortress – "

"He would retreat at once."

Saruman raised an eyebrow. "And this is undesirable because…?"

"Because you lot would find an empty fortress, say 'Good enough', and forget all about Sauron for a few centuries till he shows up again," Pallando muttered. Alatar sent him a quelling look.

" _We_ believe that Sauron would flee if approached," Alatar explained, "but an empty fortress may not be enough to convince you that the Shadow is indeed the Dark Lord.

"Perhaps that would not be so bad," said Mithrandir, frowning. "The elves of the Greenwood suffer terribly. They are in need of a respite – even if it is temporary."

"The trees too!" Radagast put in. "I think Saruman and Gandalf are right. We must do something, even just for the time being. We can't just ignore this Shadow."

Alatar looked from one to the other, frowning slightly. "I did not say that we ought to ignore it," he said. "But I would suggest a ruse – instead of marching upon the fortress, we must encourage the presence to come to us. We _cannot_ risk having it leave to poison some other place – "

"Just think about it," Pallando interrupted roughly. "If the Shadow leaves the Greenwood, where's it going to go next?"

"T-to Mordor, perhaps?" said Radagast.

"If it had the strength to build a stronghold in Mordor, it would have done so already," Alatar said. "It will not go to Mordor, nor will it march on the kingdoms of the West. No, it will turn to the East. Those lands will not stand long, for they have barely recovered from the last war – "

"Recovered?" Saruman snorted. "The Eastern lands chose to give themselves over to Evil!"

Alatar's eyes blazed. "They were occupied! Their leaders were tricked and coerced and forced into serving Sauron, and the common people had little say in the matter."

Saruman narrowed his eyes. "I would be more inclined to pity the Easterlings if ten thousand of them had not arrived at Dagorlad under the banners of Sauron!"

Pallando burst out laughing. Alatar rounded on him.

"What is the matter with you?" Alatar demanded. "Do you find this amusing?"

Pallando clapped him on the back. "I told you," he said, wiping his eyes. "You're not drunk enough for this. What, did you actually think they'd help us?"

"Did you not?" Alatar looked at his companion in surprise. "But…they remain our kinsmen, even if we are apart." He turned to look at the other wizards, confusion on his face. "We are the Istari. Are we not?"

"We _were_ the Istari," Saruman said gravely. Mithrandir's face was a mask, and Radagast just looked sad. "I myself am loath to cleave what the Valar have joined. But you have forgotten who you are."

"But – "

"You can no longer be properly called Istari, and you will not be welcome at our councils."

"Saruman," Mithrandir said, "do you not think – "

"Peace, Mithrandir!" Saruman turned to face the Gray Wizard, allowing his power to seep through in his face and voice. "Are you the leader of the Istari, or am I?"

There was a silence. For a moment, it seemed to him that he was looking not at Mithrandir but at a being of power and majesty, and for a moment he felt afraid.

Then it was over, and Mithrandir was a shabby wanderer once more. "You are," he said at last, and Saruman felt a surge of vindication.

He got to his feet and swept towards the doorway of the pavilion, his robes billowing.

Pallando snickered behind him, and he stopped.

"What," he said slowly, "is so amusing?"

"Not sure where you're going in such a hurry," Pallando said, smirking. "We're on an oliphaunt, remember?"

Damn it all. He _had_ forgotten that.

"Just one moment," Alatar said, sounding strangely subdued. "Let me set up the rope ladder."

When the ladder was in place, Saruman followed Gandalf and Radagast down as carefully as he could manage. It was a rather undignified exit – hardly ideal. But then, when it came to the Blue Wizards, very little was.


End file.
